Once Upon A Stumble

Disclaimer: this is a longer one... but probably the last long one for a while. Lots to catch up on and process through.

Those who know me know that I've been into running since I was in High School. I went through periods when running was just something I did for exercise, and other times it provided genuine stress relief and ...ahem... mental stability. It was something that I took for granted until I went to Central America, when it was too dangerous for me to go out for a run, and I missed it tremendously. Upon returning, I gladly worked back into running shape and resumed taking it for granted. In fact, I not only took it for granted but came to rely on it. I needed and craved my runs. Life gets stressful and hard and painful, and those runs were something that fed my soul. They were also something I could control in a world that, at times, felt very chaotic.

Go figure, about 10 months ago, I broke my foot. I wish I could say that I broke it doing something valiant or exciting, but I was just walking out of my front door on a Sunday evening, carrying a bag of food and not paying attention, and I stumbled. My foot twisted in just the wrong way off of our doormat. I knew almost instantly that it was broken. And I was surprised at how my world as I knew it came crashing around me. I'm not even being dramatic; I hadn't realized how much I had come to rely on my running and physical independence. Ironic that I ended up in a classroom with people who have far less independence... kind of pathetic how spoiled I am in retrospect.

The doctor said running was out for a good 6 weeks and maybe 8. Nothing weight bearing at all for at least a month. No elliptical, no bike, no dance classes or weight lifting classes, and not even swimming. "You don't want to injure it further, because then you'll have to be off of it for longer," he told me after I begged and begged for SOMETHING I could do. That part was true. "You can weight lift with your arms," he offered.

That answer was not sufficient for me. So I talked to my mom's personal trainer, Michelle, who has dealt with tons and tons of injuries. And she very graciously walked me through a workout that I could easily do without hurting my foot. I missed my cardio, and while it's not even close to the same thing, it turns out that you can get cardio from weight lifting if you do it the right way.

I was only substitute teaching at the time, not even a long term job but just whenever a call came in that I wanted to accept. Not the best economy for getting jobs, particularly when you have a broken foot and hobble around very slowly. Daycare facilities typically want people who can actually pick the children up... who knew? So in addition to having a broken foot, I had a lot of time on my hands, which in a way was really good (although painful) because I was forced to slow way down. In so doing, I had to face the reality that running had become my comfort, my distraction, and my god in many ways. That needed to change. It was not easy or quick, but I worked on shifting my attention back to where it belonged. It is still a daily battle for me to forsake my independence and rely on the God who so deserves it.

Meanwhile, with the extra time on my hands, I spent a lot of it in the gym. I was determined that as soon as my stupid brace came off, I'd have strengthened all of the muscles in my body so that I'd be back on the trail in no time, and in so doing, I learned a completely new way to exercise that did not involve running or group exercise. I hopped around on one foot from one weight station to the next, while all of the trainers laughed at me and occasionally carried a medicine ball or kettle bell for me. I learned how to use all of the weights, machines, and little exercise tools laying around. I also realized that I had an untapped passion for exercise; not just cardio, but total body exercise and somehow, it made sense to me. It came naturally and just seemed to... fit. Simultaneously, I found a deep interest in nutrition and would spend hours researching different philosophies, practices, and healthy recipes. Healthy living became a passion and a creative outlet for me. Slowly, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I became grateful for what was working well and the physical independence I had that so many who are disabled lack. That gratefulness only intensified as I found myself in a classroom full of physically and mentally disabled children.

After a few of the personal trainers at my gym suggested that I look into getting certified, I finally talked to Reade about it. He was very supportive of the idea, so after much thought and time and reasoning back and forth, I signed up for a course with The National Academy of Sports Medicine, one of the most nationally respected and recognized organizations in the industry. It also has one of the hardest tests to pass at and took a significant chunk out of the checking account, so I knew I had my work cut out for me because a lot was riding on passing this test.

One of the reasons accepting this long term sub job worked well for me was that it allowed me some steady income while I studied. There was also little planning and no grading required, so I could spend extra time at the gym and/or studying. I also found that things I were studying directly applied to the students in my class. Things started coming full circle.

On December 16th, I passed my exam after hours and hours and hours of studying and about 50 attempts at the practice test. I am very excited to begin working at The Energy Club in Arlington and gaining the knowledge and experience I need to get started in this industry. I have dreams... so many dreams... of what I will do with this in the future. Hopefully it involves children and people who can't otherwise afford training. Hopefully it involves education on healthy living. For now, I am excited to put the time into learning what I need to know to equip me for what lies ahead.